


The Pain of Little Wounds

by MrsHamill



Series: Sandman Crossover Project [5]
Category: The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Multiple Crossovers, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 21:57:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6026689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waiting to die. Pairing: D'Argo/Despair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pain of Little Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> For Blucola, because she asked so nicely and because I'm insane. But you already knew that. I loved Farscape while it was on, and I think I remember the characters well, but I beg your indulgence for any errors.

* * *

He couldn't open his eyes. If he did, he knew, they'd boil away in the vacuum, and that would hurt like hell. But not as much as the other wounds.

It was cold, so damn cold. He could feel his extremities beginning to shut down, beginning to go into hibernate mode. Would the others come for him in time? 

Did he really care?

He would have liked to have seen Lo'Laan again, held her again. She was so beautiful, especially when pregnant with Jothee. His son. Their son. His life.

There was nothing to breathe and no need for tears. He felt little icicles form beneath his eyes, sealing them shut against the vacuum. His brain became fuzzier...

"So very beautiful." The voice was that of a female luxan and he opened his eyes in surprise. Not only should he _not_ be able to hear, not in the vacuum of space, what he had heard was a fem speaking in Luxan. 

He floated in space no longer, though he seemed to be in space, just a different space. Black with mirrors, mirrors hanging everywhere. Only they didn't reflect anything.

There was a woman before him, a squat, powerful luxan who was naked and obese. She wore a strange ring that carried a sharp hook. "Yes. Beautiful." 

"What?" He looked around, frantically, looking for Moya, looking for the stars that weren't there. "Where am I?"

"You are walking in my demesne," she replied. Her voice was deep. "You know who I am. You know where you are. You have been a guest in my house many times, especially in the last few cycles."

"Is Lo'Laan..."

"She is gone. You know she is gone. You've mourned her here for a long time."

He felt a sob form in his chest. "I love you, Lo'Laan," he murmured.

"So delicious." The strange fem brought her ring up and tore into the skin of her chest with the hook. Blood -- not perfectly clear, tainted slightly -- welled immediately. Her eyes were closed in what looked like ecstasy. Small, gray quadrupeds appeared at her feet, biting her toes, licking the blood that spilled, and she reached to pet them. 

He winced and looked around again, desperately seeking an exit. "Where am I?"

"You have been living in my house for a long time, warrior. Do you intend to stay?"

"I... I..." With a flash of insight, he realized where he must be, who he must be with. "I'm frozen, aren't I?"

"Yes, but not dead. Not yet. And no, I am not my older sister. You flatter me."

If not... then... "Your house is cold."

"Yes." It was a simple acknowledgement of his statement.

"I don't... I don't think I want to be here." Visions of Moya, of the people he knew aboard her, came to him. 

"That is entirely up to you. Every time you look into a mirror and see the shame you brought on yourself, you'll be coming here."

His mouth opened, then shut with a snap. Abruptly, he bowed his head to his knees. "Orican Daalka."

"Yes." She reached down for one of the small, furry animals, brought it to her mouth, kissed it then broke it in half. It died with a small squeal. She licked the blood from her fingers. "I will not keep you from leaving my house. The only things that could keep you here are your own feelings." She looked at him, and he shivered to see the darkness in her eyes. "Do not blame me, warrior, for your own failings."

He looked down, his remorse and pain almost overwhelming him. "I failed her. I failed her. I let that... that... sebacean cur kill her and then let him imprison me without killing me or me killing him." With effort, he relaxed his hands. "I let myself become enslaved." He left his head where it was, cradled on his knees. "I lived. I failed."

"Yes, yes." She drew the words out until they were nearly incomprehensible. Then she threw the body of the creature down and it was instantly swarmed under by its former friends. "I will feed off you for a long time, warrior," she said, still licking her fingers.

He took a deep breath, wondering how he could, wondering if all of this was just a dream, just a hallucination brought on by luxan hibernation sickness. "No." A vision of Lo'Laan rose before him, cradling their son in her arms. She smiled and kissed Jothee, then smiled at him again. "I will not live here any longer. I will live and I will avenge my wife's death."

Looking up, he saw her staring at him, her regard carrying nothing but bland curiosity. "Will you?"

"Yes." He nodded, as much to himself as to her. "Orican Daalka, I have learned much from you in this."

"I do not teach, warrior." Her voice was hard, no longer languid or bitter. "You seek egress from my house, you must find it on your own."

Ka D'Argo straightened slowly. "Very well." Visions of his shipmates again rose before him. "I will. My... my friends will find me, and I will live to avenge my wife's death and find my son again." After a moment, he continued. "I will no longer live in your house, Orican Daalka."

Her eyes grew wider and deeper and he found himself falling, falling into them, with a clang and screech of metal and a babble of voices. His eyes were frozen shut, still, but his ears could hear. 

"Have you got him?"

"I've got him, I've got him... he's alive..."


End file.
